Professor Emeritus James DeLaurier achieved something in early July that has fascinated humankind throughout much of history. DeLaurier and a team of students at the University of Toronto Institute for Aerospace Studies achieved sustained flight by a piloted ornithopter – an airplane with flapping wings that are mechanically operated – something dreamed of by Leonardo da Vinci, among others.

"He though about it carefully," said DeLaurier of da Vinci's design for an ornithopter. "He put a remarkable amount of thought into it but was limited by the materials of his time."

The concept of an ornithopter differs from standard fixed-wing aircraft because when flying its wings flap up and down in a manner similar to that of birds in flight. "It's an ancient dream, achieving flight with flapping wings," said DeLaurier, a professor of aerospace engineering at U of T since 1974, who retired this summer.

With the help of his current research team of four students, test pilot Jack Sanderson and a few other volunteers, DeLaurier achieved his lifelong dream of flying a full-scale ornithopter July 8 at Downsview Park. Equipped with a 24-horsepower engine and a model airplane turbo booster, the ornithopter flew for 14 seconds at an average speed of 88 km/h, in the process travelling a third of a kilometre.

* First Law of Living: As soon as you start doing what you always wanted to be doing, you'll want to be doing something else.

* Weiner's Law of Libraries: There are no answers, only cross-references.

* Isaac's Strange Rule of Staleness: Any food that starts out hard will soften when stale. Any food that starts out soft will harden when stale.

* Kenny's Law of Auto Repair: The part requiring the most consistent repair or replacement will be housed in the most inaccessible location.

* Second Law of Business Meetings: If there are two possible ways to spell a person's name, you will pick the wrong one. Corollary - If there is only one way to spell a name, you will spell it wrong anyway.

* The Grocery Bag Law: The candy bar you planned to eat on the way home from the market is hidden at the bottom of the grocery bag.

* Yeager's Law: Washing machines break down only during the wash cycle. Corollary: All breakdowns occur on the plumber's day off.

* Lampner's Law of Employment: When leaving work late, you will go unnoticed. When you leave work early, you will meet the boss in the parking lot.

* Quile's Consultation Law: The job that pays the most will be offered when there is no time to deliver the services.

* Loftus' Law: Some people manage by the book, even though they don't know who wrote the book or even which book it is.

My fridge is only four and a half years old. Better not be time for a new one. Two coolers in the kitchen, gotta get more ice. Neighbors each have spare fridges, but I don't want to start running to their garages to fix dinner.

MMario, I think a whiff of your weekend made it over here. The morning walk was a bit of a challenge this morning with trash bags ripped on the streets (and keeping the dogs out of it) and dogs off of leashes. And now I find the cold (versus freezer) section of my fridge seems to have died. I cooked up a storm yesterday to make leftovers for all week.

I can name all fifty states and all or most of the territories. I can also name all of Canada's provinces and most of the counties of Ireland. Moreover, I can name all seven dwarves: Sleazy, Spacey, Junky, Dumbhead, Pusher, Leroy, and Trixie. The names of Santa's reindeer are Bottom, Thistledown, Peasblossom, Puck, Moms, Easy, Stoner, Fido, and of course Alky, who leads the pack because of his red nose. Want me to recite the General Orders or the Ten Commandments? Huh? Do ya do ya do ya? How about the mnemonic for the bass clef lines, huh? Or the one for the stellar spectral classes? I really like lists, I've always liked lists and mnemonics, I full of lists and mnemonics and I know that because when I was very young people told me so; they'd say, "You're full of it." The US Rifle Caliber .30 M-1 is a clip-fed, gas-operated, semiautomatic shoulder weapon weighing ten pounds unloaded and without bayonet. The moons of Jupiter are oh, Hi! Is it time for the pills already?

You sound like one of those undergrads saving up for college fees who tells you their name is James if you need anything, but never tell you what their name is if you don't. They half close their eyes and assume a reverent look as they recite their lessons about lightly salted and gently braised whathaveyou au Doh... Ask them the names of fifty states and they'd freeze right up.

Just for you, Amos -- lunch today was lightly salted fresh chilled tomato wedges mixed with purple basil and a dollop of mayonnaise, served with focaccia bread, and finished with a raspberry-peach crisp.

Well, I certainly deserved that, didn't I; for standing up for Mom's right to an intelligent conversation. But, hey, I ain't gonna come between the wimmin folk -- you and Mom can share the rest of them tomaters, and I'll just go for a long walk down a short country road... hmmph.

Oh Jessup I set up a coup, and it upset poor little you. Your poems I know ems, you're irate, and throw em out wildly to starboard and port. In taking pot shots, at innocent Scots It's troubled me lots and lots I know what the problem is friend You had your own plan for the end But Amos you're lumbered I got the round numbered Post, you're upset because you did not!

Rabbi Burns understudy, and Poet Lorry Ate to the court of King Haggis.

Dear friends of MOAB, pray forebear From listing all your menus there. For lists of things to eat, in prose, Does not good BS fare compose; These chits and chats and mundane things Are not what makes the MOAB ring But like the distant surly Scot Turn her to something she is not. Menus are made as common fare, But good BS is far more rare. Purge and confess, your souls to shrive, Restore your heart with BS live, Rise to the heights, with courage then, And bring the true MOAB back again.

We've been eating a few BLTs around here lately. Trouble is I make bread one loaf at a time and these two kids can seriously diminish a loaf in a matter of a few minutes. I'll make another loaf tomorrow so its fresh when they come in. I bought some very large very ripe tomatoes at the farmer's market, and while I'll cook a few and freeze a few, we'll also eat some ripe now.

We had BLTs -- fresh tomatoes from the Farmers' Market, black-seeded Simpson lettuce, thick-sliced bacon from a local butcher (a real one!), served on roasted-garlic sourdough bread smeared with good mayonnaise.

I got a little carried away at the farmer's market again--too many tomatoes. I'll make a casserole this afternoon and bring a serving over to MOM. (I saute cut up yellow bent neck squash in garlic and olive oil and I'll add some diced tomatoes then mix in some mushrooms and chunks of sauteed Italian sausage, and later a little spaghetti sauce for thickening and seasoning and after it simmers a little I sprinkle Romano cheese over the top.)

Hi, Mom! Want some green beans? Got lots of 'em. One little patch has been providing more than we can eat since early June and they're not finished yet. They're a bush variety, not pole beans, and bush beans usually only produce for a few weeks. They should have been totally spent a month ago but they just keep on going.

Thistles. Weeds. I have been working on xeriscaping. I do have some purple basil, golden sage, and Roma tomatoes in pots though. The voles (which I hope are now exterminated) were causing problems -- along with the other issues that have pretty much taken care of the Summer.

I've just been visiting the home grown tomato thread that Bobert started. Has anyone remembered to bring MOM anything from their gardens this year? I didn't put one in, but maybe this fall. How about you, Rap? Growing anything interesting along the golf course fenceline?

Ordinary (in a short and balding sort of way--he's the one in the boxing shirt, all 5'2" or so of him) and extraordinary at the same time. When we first met, he was quite rotund, but he decided about then that fitness was a good thing and got so fit that he has been working as a personal trainer on the side for some time now. And planned to keep doing that after retirement.

Outriders At The End Of The TrailDedicated To The Memory Of My Uncle, Evan D. McRae By Wallace McRae

They contemplate their town-boot toes As they stand around and mill. They check the south horizon, 'Cross the tracks above the hill. Their suitcoats hint of mothballs. Their Levis are clean and creased. They speak of grass or cattle But never the deceased. Some have shook the Gov'ner's hand, And one's been in the pen. Crooked legs define the bronc hands, Cropped-off thumbs the dally men. Their spring-toothed necks are throttled up In silky black wild rags. Their faces scored like flower stamps On well-worn saddle bags. . They've come early to the funeral home, Yet don't want to go inside. There's no comfort in a breathless room Or words of "eventide." They somehow share a secret bond As each one recollects: Together. Separate. Silently. Each pays his last respects.

You'll hear no keening to the vaulted skies, But the good hands know when a good hand dies.